


Socks

by CircleReadd



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Chubby Reader, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gentle Dom, One Shot, Penis In Vagina Sex, Reader has a vagina, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Smut, Spanking, Teasing, a long long one shot, big papyrus, experienced Papyrus, gentle dom!papyrus, reader is female, reader uses she/her pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircleReadd/pseuds/CircleReadd
Summary: Papyrus, your long term boyfriend, enters your home in a foul mood. So you come up with a way to take his mind off things.





	Socks

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! This is the first fic I've written in... Years. I'm actually a little nervous! But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of this... Very long, incredibly transparent display of self-indulgence. I love both the skelebros, which you will see as I continue to post but... Papyrus is very very special. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing is!

“Darling, you are positively fuming, what on _earth_ is wrong?”

As you had already stated, Papyrus was positively fuming, sat bunched up in a too-small, human-sized chair, his arms crossed huffily across his chest and his mouth screwed up in a petulant scowl as he practically _sulked_ at your dining table. He’d been in your house for about ten seconds, and you could tell as soon as he walked, rather _stomped_ in, and aggressively smooched a non-committal kiss to your lips in a wordless greeting, before sitting down in a huff, that something had _really_ rubbed him up the wrong way. Papyrus was a big guy, and strong too, and his frequent, grumpy mood swings would have been intimidating to a short-statured human such as yourself, had you not known that he was a big, harmless softy and had the skeleton not been the kind of person that was _accidentally_ funny, just by being himself.

You found it very difficult to sympathise with his bad mood, unable to keep a little smile from curling at your lips as he sat and sulked with the scowl and prowess of a stoic warrior king, whilst simultaneously looking like he was at a children’s tea party, sitting at a small, plastic table and chairs. Truly, a teddy bear in a bonnet sat in the chair beside him would have completed the picture. You’d be sure to tell his older brother of this little scene within the sitcom that was your relationship, the next time you saw him.

Papyrus turned his eyes to you and instantly registered that you weren’t taking him seriously, and he huffed, turning his head away and crossing his arms even tighter across his chest. You felt your heart twinge at the thought of causing him more upset than he was already processing, and you let out a gentle sigh.

“Oh, c’mon, Pap, don’t do that,” you pleaded softly, gliding over to him and placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder “Tell me what’s wrong.”

The skeleton’s scowl softened at your touch, and his ribcage visibly swelled and contracted as he heaved a deep sigh, turning his face to look at you in resignation “Oh… Reader, it’s just my brother, as usual.”

You gave an understanding half-smile, shaking your head and patting his shoulder “What did he do this time?”

“It’s more what he didn’t do,” Papyrus grumbled, gloomily, drooping his chin into his hand, elbow rested on the table. You swiftly moved to stay in his line of sight, pulling up a chair beside him and resting your hand over his on the table top.

“Go on. Keep going.”

The skeleton sighed again “I just asked him to do something _very simple._ I asked him to go out and buy some spaghetti, for me to make for dinner tomorrow, as I knew that I wouldn’t have time to pick up some, myself, between finishing work and coming to see you.”

He rubbed your head affectionately.

“But I get back, this afternoon, and he’s just fast asleep on the sofa! Just _surrounded_ by mess, empty candy wrappers and ketchup bottles,” he stuck out his wide, orange tongue, with a grimace, before continuing “And he hasn’t even been out to get the spaghetti!”

“And then! Then, when I scold him about it, he just shrugs and says,” he knocked his voice an octave or so lower “Hey, Pap, I keep tagliaTELLE-in’ ya you need to text me these things, because I just straight up FORGETTI.”

Papyrus and his older brother Sans, despite their differences and frequent squabbles, were thick as thieves, and this proved very true in the taller skeleton’s excellent impression of the shorter one. You shied your mouth behind your hand to let out a giggle, before returning it to touch Papyrus’. He looked at you in defeat.

“He can just be so _incredibly_ irritating and careless, and then when he doesn’t follow through on something I’ve asked him to do, when I try to confront him about it, he just winds me up even more. Like _I’m_ the one in the wrong. It’s exasperating.”

“He is very talented in pushing your buttons, Papyrus, I think we can both agree on that,” you observed, giving him a firm pat on the back “But, would he really be your big brother if he _didn’t_ do that?”

“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it,” Papyrus puffed out another sigh, before groaning and drumming his fingers frustratedly on the table “I just wish that he would sometimes just do _one thing_ that I have asked.”

“I know.”

“There are dirty socks in our living room that have been there for _months_.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll be damned if I reward his behaviour by just MOVING THEM MYSELF.”

He gesticulated, dramatically, with his long arms and massive hands and you let out a laugh, patting his knee below the table “You’re very funny.”

“I am _not_ funny, I am _great_ ,” he corrected you, unable to keep a smile from his face at this point. He relished in your smirk as he continued “Nobody calls me ‘The _Funny_ Papyrus,’ now, do they?”

“Maybe I will start.”

“Oh, I dare you.”

Papyrus’ mood seemed to have lightened, and you felt free to get up, smooch a kiss to his teeth and head into the kitchen, your sock-covered feet padding softly on the kitchen tile as you busied yourself with making cups of tea for yourself and the skeleton. It was a tradition, by this point, between yourself and your boyfriend, to have a cup of tea upon his arrival, as part of a winding-down ritual after one or both of you had finished work, before you teamed up to work on dinner, together. He was out of your sight for maybe five minutes, but much to your disappointment, when you came back into the room, he had returned to his sulking mood.

“Oh, Pap,” you sighed, setting his mug down in front of him “It’s really got you down, huh?”

“I am sorry, Reader,” he looked at you miserably, making your heart ache “I don’t wish to burden you with my gloom.”

“Don’t apologise to me for that, you silly sack-of-bones,” you waved your hand dismissively “I just wish there was something I could do to take your mind off it.”

“I am just _too_ frustrated,” he affirmed bitterly. He then quickly touched your arm, remembering his manners “Thank you for the tea.”

“Y’welcome,” you murmured, dejectedly.

You flopped down in your chair, beside him, sat sideways from the table as you both remained in silence for a little while, lost in thought. Papyrus was still stewing over the whole situation with Sans, only unfreezing from his statued grump to periodically sip at his tea, before turning back into stone. There wasn’t very much you felt you could say, at this point, figuring that you just had to let the tall skeleton ride out the mood for a bit. And that was OK; though perhaps it would have been nice for Papyrus to be all smiles and praise when he entered your home that evening, scooping you up with love and affection, everybody was entitled to a bad day and entitled to deal with it however best suited them. You simply wished that there was more that you could do to help him feel better. To help him get the frustration out of his system.

You stared absent-mindedly down at your feet, for a moment or two, observing the organic mechanisms of your toes as they curled and uncurled within your socks. Socks. Truly, the inanimate bane of Papyrus’ existence.

Almost like a tiny percussionist had clinked an even tinier triangle in your head, a little idea suddenly appeared within your mind. Mischief pulled upwards, lightly, at the corners of your mouth. This idea you had was truly that of a troublemaker, and it was certainly risky. In fact, there was a danger that it could make the whole atmosphere of the evening even worse. However, were you able to pull it off, both you and Papyrus would be able to reap its delicious rewards, and the mere idea spiked an excitement in you that you couldn’t refuse. You turned your eyes back to the skeleton, who was still frowning into the table, his head in his hand. Well, it was worth a shot.

You rose from your seat, lifting Papyrus’s hand to kiss his gloved knuckles, before you slipped away and out of the room, wordlessly, leaving him to brood. In his dejected trance, Papyrus hadn’t even really noticed that you’d left, aside from the tingle that remained on his hand from your kiss.

You were a gentle soul and quiet, too, both in voice and in presence and the skeleton had become completely enraptured in you. How you were tender and motherly towards your loved ones, while also being boisterous and blunt, and then stern and aloof with those you didn’t know or disliked. You wore cute dresses, with quirky, colourful patterns and flared, flowing skirts that swayed hypnotically with your wide-set hips, but then paired them with big, brown boots, keeping you planted upon the earth as though you would float away without them. You were chubby and densely built, but as a human, you were still small enough for him to scoop you up in his arms and somehow, you glided through Papyrus’ life like smoke, expertly keeping your movements silent and ghostly, as though you were taking profound care to not wake someone from slumber. And upon meeting you, he had been struck with the intense desire to capture that smoke, in a jar, and keep it on his night stand. Knowing that wasn’t feasible or fair, however, (plus he probably wouldn’t be able to find a jar big enough) he simply opted to woo you instead, so that you might stay in his presence.

And oh, stay you did. You stayed, and you _loved_ him. Papyrus could see goodness in everyone, but he had been entirely blinded by yours. Your kindness and your gentleness, you _showered_ him in it and _god_ how he loved you, in return. He didn’t even feel the need for that handy-dandy dating manual that he had once kept on his person – in his inexperience he was prone to second guessing himself, but there was something about you that just put him at ease. The enjoyment of your presence proved to be enough of a guiding hand, and it seemed to do well by you, too, as you agreed to see him time and time again and welcomed him into your life, into your home, into your bed. Papyrus had always seen sleeping as a chore, but lord knew how he loved the nights where he got to crawl into bed beside sweet, little you. A smile tugged at the corner of the skeleton’s mouth as you skated through his thoughts, his mind drifting from its gloom. His hand still tingled with the glittering sensation of the kiss you had left for him, and it was then he realised that you had been absent for a few minutes, now. Immediately, he missed you.

As he was about to look over his shoulder to the door out of the open plan living area, from the dining table, Papyrus jumped as he was suddenly hit in the face with something light, and soft. It fell to the wooden floor with a quiet, cushiony **_plap_** , and he blinked at it. A sock. It was red, with blue polka-dots, obviously yours, and was visibly unwashed. He frowned.

Before he could even voice his confusion, another hit him in the face and then landed on his chest, making him jerk in disgust and feverishly brush it off. It fell to the floor with a second **_plap_**. Papyrus’ frown intensified, and he snapped his head in the direction of the the door, accusingly, to see you poised in the doorway, a laundry basket tucked under your arm and a devilish smile curling into your cheeks.

“Reader, why are you throwing dirty socks at me?”

You replied, wordlessly, by just tossing another sock towards him, this one falling just short of his boots, planted on the ground, with yet another **_plap_**.

“Reader, _stop it.”_

 ** _Plap._** This one you’d just slammed obstinately at your own feet, unable to keep yourself from grinning as Papyrus visibly got more and more annoyed with you.

“Reader!” **_plap_** “ _Reader!_ **_(plap)_** Reader, you’re making a _mess._ You’re _irritating_ me!”

**_Plap. Plap. Plap._ **

Dirty socks hung pathetically off the TV, off the lamp, off the door handle and were dotted about the room, on the sofa, on the floor, on the hearth of the fire place. Papyrus was bright orange as he fumed, thoroughly irritated by you not only making a mess, but _very clearly_ attempting to purposely wind him up. You grinned at him, watching him carefully with gleaming, mischievous eyes as he scowled at you.

“Reader… If you throw another sock, I swear…”

Another dirty sock smacked him, harmlessly, across the eyes, and in an instant, Papyrus’ chair screeched against the wooden floor, and in a wobbly scuffle he was scrambling furiously towards you, his massive, gloved hands out stretched. You immediately shrieked, throwing one final sock into the room, before disappearing out of the doorway, and up the stairs, your tall, skeletal boyfriend leaping after you in pursuit. He shouted your name and then cried out in infuriated anguish as you pelted him with more socks.

He managed to snatch your arm about a third of the way up the stairs, and thinking fast, you pulled a couple of socks from the basket, and then emptied the remainder over him, behind you, his grip loosening when you finally dumped the empty basket over his head, giving you the opportunity to escape, shrieking with laughter. You were leading him, calculatedly, to your bedroom.

“Reader, come BACK HERE!” he roared, still pursuing you as you pelted the final few socks at him.

Hands empty, at last, you leapt through your open doorway and then whirled around to face him, stood up straight, to attention, with your feet firmly planted together and your hands placed innocently behind your back. He stormed in after you and loomed over your tiny, human form, steam practically pouring out of his ears at your childish display of defiance. Your heart fluttered in your chest and your face flushed. He was so tall…

“Reader, why did you _do_ that.”

“Do what?”

“THAT!” he gestured behind him to the trail of dirty socks you’d left in your wake “This isn’t like you! The mess is one thing, but you are _intentionally_ trying to annoy me, and you know it. Why?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Papyrus snatched your shoulders and brought his face dangerously close to yours, his empty eye sockets ablaze with a furious orange “ _Yes you do_. Why are you being so annoying?!”

And in an instant, everything made sense to the tall, skeletal monster, as you lowered your face, lowered your voice, raised your hands carefully to either side of his long jaw and purred “… _Are you going to punish me?”_

Oh…

Papyrus audibly swallowed, still panting from the pursuit, as he studied your face. His mind raced with frustration and confusion, but all of this was trumped by a very sudden, very intense surge of _lust_ as your velvet voice punctured his very soul and sent a coursing warmth from his chest to his groin. You eyed him carefully over the rim of your glasses, _daring_ him to take control of the situation. To take control of _you._

It all happened very quickly. A few seconds ticked by as a tense silence hung between you and you felt as though time had stopped as you awaited his response, nervous he would reject you, nervous that instead of playing your carefully crafted game, he was simply going to tell you off. But then, without warning, you were swept up in a strong, swooping flash, and you suddenly found yourself bent, face down, over his lap on the edge of your bed, with your skirt bunched up and tights and knickers pulled down in one swift, rough movement, before Papyrus delivered the flat palm of his hand against your bare backside in one hot, sharp **_SMACK._**

A yelp, and then you were panting, breathless from your surprise as your flush throbbed in your ears with the humiliation. Tiny moans escaped you as the skeleton gently smoothed where he’d spanked you, soothing the pain until the sensation became that of pleasure, and you squirmed beneath his touch. He firmly gripped one cheek of your rump, halting your movements.

“A _punishment?_ ” his voice was low and dangerous, sending a shiver tingling up your spine as he resumed the circular smoothing of your bum “Well, that _is_ what naughty, little pets get when they misbehave.”

You said nothing, but you were unable to keep yourself silent as little mewls of pleasure continued to peep out of you as the intimate, little massage went on. Out of your line of sight, a flurry of excitement flashed in the skeleton’s eyes, a child-like grin curling his mouth as you moaned at his touch, before his seriousness returned, stepping back into the character that was going to proceed with you.

“I think ten should do it,” he hummed, thoughtfully, as though he were deliberating whether or not to wear a coat, because it might rain “Ten more strikes across the rear should do it, shouldn’t it, my pet?”

“Yes, sir,” you squeezed out, dangling helplessly over his lap. Your tone was meek and resigned, but your body was a-flutter with excitement as you let yourself bow to his whim. You used the words you knew would set him alight “I’ve been a naughty, little human, sir. Please punish me.”

You could hear the rustle of fabric and leather as Papyrus removed his gloves, before tenderly introducing his now bare, skeletal hand back to your naked rump, continuing with the motion of smoothing and rubbing and _groping and squeezing_. His fingertips dug into your soft, fatty flesh and spread one cheek gently from the other, somewhat exposing all sensitive material to the cold air of the room. You shivered in pleasure, your back curving as his fingers brushed dangerously close to the goods; your pocket, your _pussy_ , the muscles of which clenched involuntarily just at the idea of being touched. You heard him let out a thoughtful hum, that growled out of him in a tone reserved only for intimate situations such as these, as he smoothed his caress back to the rounded peak of your buttocks, making you sigh, foolishly relaxing into the gentle sensation when-

**_-SMACK!_ **

“Be careful not to get too comfortable,” he warned, casually, as your rump stung, and you whimpered from the hot combination of pain and pleasure that began to ache at your core with a gradually-growing intensity “I can enjoy your fleshy, human form as I please but-“

**_-SMACK!_ **

“I _am_ teaching you a lesson, after all,” he began to stroke you again, and you mewled out, squirming beneath him, before going rigid with yet another **_SMACK!_** “How many is that, now, Human?”

“Three! It’s three, sir!”

“Good girl,” **_SMACK!_** “Such a good girl **_(SMACK!)_** , you’ve been bad, but we can put that right.”

The remaining five spanks were agony; drawn out, and periodically paused with tricks and red-herrings of teasingly gentle, loving touches, before bony fingers scorched against your backside once again. He made you count them, the bastard, and you cried out every time, tears stinging your eyes, your sex aching more and more with yearning as blood rushed towards the lower half of your body. You gripped at the bed sheets, your face flushed as the spanking continued.

“And _ten_ ,” the final blow was sharp, hard and numbing, before everything came to a sudden halt, the only contact between you and Papyrus being the pressure of his thigh bones beneath your ribs and abdomen, finally letting you take note of how your backside shone with pain, a light pulse thumping across your skin as you heaved out shaky breaths and tiny moans “… Let’s take a look at you.”

Papyrus _really_ liked picking you up and slinging you around. He was always careful with you, but even in everyday situations, in his natural excitement, he was often quick to scoop you up and cradle you in a hug, or fireman’s lift you over his shoulder before racing off to whatever life next had in store, with you firmly in his possession. You were _his_ after all, _his little human_. He adored you so, and loved to hold you close to him, and he took great pride in the being the one to have captured your heart, a heart that sang with a great sense of belonging and partnership at such a sentiment. And although his intent was never to possess or _control_ you, it was still very exciting to have someone who _could_ hold that power over you, should they choose. And the skeleton, strong, lean and twice your size, chose to gather you up in this instance, holding you in one arm. He pulled the rest of your socks, tights and panties off with his free hand, before pinning you upright with your back flat against his chest and your knees pulled back, exposed and uncompromised. He carried you over to hold you up in front of the mirror, an enormous grin on his face as the reflection presented you both with an outrageous shot of your wet, quivering mound, and the red, skeletal hand prints that welted the flesh of your backside.

He let out a low **_nyeh heh heh_** as you squirmed a little, whining with yet more humiliation.

“Look at the state of you,” in the reflection you could see his eyes, with hooded lids, drinking in all you had to offer “That’s quite the sight, isn’t it?”

“Papyrus,” you whimpered, trying to turn your face away, and you felt him nuzzle his lower jaw against your head, unable to resist his natural urge to be affectionate towards you.

“You should really look at this, my pet,” he teased, mischief in his voice. You peeked one eye back to the mirror as he readjusted his grasp on you. He had kept your legs wide apart, but his hands were now gripping your backside as he moved his firm hold to spread the soft, puffy lips of your pussy, revealing your dripping entrance as it flexed and quivered, humming with desire. He took a sharp intake of air through his teeth “Oh my god… Look at that. It looks so good. You horny, little devil.”

You whined again, not wanting to look. The skeleton thought you were beautiful, but you weren’t as proud of your body as he was and seeing yourself in this state filled you with an embarrassment you weren’t totally comfortable with. Despite that, your arousal was still prevalent, riding through in your whining tone “Papyrus, don’t…”

He immediately took the hint, ever-doting, ever-understanding, and carried you back towards the bed, but he did not break away from the character he had become “ _Don’t?”_

He perched back down on the edge of the bed, with you placed side ways in his lap, bundled firmly in his arms, one hand reached around your back to keep your knee pinned to your side, keeping your legs spread.

“I’m not sure you’re in the position to tell me _‘don’t’_ , Human,” his voice was a growl as he began to one-handedly undo the buttons on the front of your dress, and then also the buttons of the blouse underneath it. He’d become quite the expert over the time you’d been together “Your behaviour is the reason this is happening. Antagonising me, intentionally provoking me, the very _nerve_ of it.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“As you _should_ be,” you let out a squeak as he unhooked the clasp of your (very convenient) front-opening bra, and it hung pathetically apart, like your dress, like your blouse, with your breasts now on full display, for him to run the orange shine of his hungry eyesockets all over, before he turned that intense stare directly into your eyes, your face flushed and your mouth slightly agape. He gleamed with mischief “I really don’t think you’ve learned _anything_ after all that, pet.”

Like a lion to it’s prey, Papyrus bowed his head into your chest and began to run a long, sloppy tongue, one that could truly only be that of a monster, over your hot, flushed, doughy flesh, heaving with each shaking breath as he nibbled and slurped on and around your nipples, tight with arousal, sending informants of lustful sensation quivering to your mound. You’d been aching to be touched between your legs for what felt like an eternity, and still the skeleton was just piling all of this attention onto all these other parts of your body and you could feel your eyes begin to spiral with the relentless, teasing pleasure.

“Papyrus…”

You bucked your hips, held firmly in his grasp, and you felt his hand squeeze around your thigh, close towards the oozing centre of your desire, informing you that he was paying attention. Where on earth he had learnt all this from, you had no idea, but he knew exactly what he was doing. It took you everything in your power to not tell him off for being such a god-damn tease, but _you_ had inspired this. _You_ had encouraged this. And there was the tiniest part of you, which would have been larger if it weren’t clouded with a cosmic-horn, that was thrilled to be Papyrus’ plaything.

You let out a long, sighing moan, letting your head loll backwards, before you were suddenly jostled back into a more upright position, the skeleton clearly not wanting you to relax.

“I don’t think you’re taking this punishment very seriously,” without warning, the very thing you had been waiting for split through you like electricity, as two long skeletal fingers suddenly slipped between your legs and plunged into your pussy. You let out a scream, slightly pained by such an invasion, but that quickly wavered into pleasure as your inner walls adjusted, expanding and contracting, pulsating wantonly around his fingers. His face was split into a shit-eating grin, which was curled against your skin as he nuzzled his nose into your neck and began to pump his fingers in and out of you, the flat of his thumb applying pressure to your swollen clit, your wetness squelching with each plunge. The pleasure was maddening, your body squirming as you mewled and yowled, making Papyrus hold you even firmer, restricting your movement, allowing you no release, no sanctuary from his touch. You clenched your teeth, a squeezed moan roaring out of you, and he couldn’t keep himself from chuckling “You’re such a filthy thing.”

He pulled his fingers out to slick his touch over the lips of your pussy, lubricated with your juices as he circled his fingertips over that wonderful little button of nerves. You tangled a hand into his scarf, eyebrows knitted together as he watched your expression adoringly, rubbing ecstasy into your senses with his tough before stuffing his fingers back inside you, grinning at the noise you made in response.

“Is it good, my pet? Do you like when I touch you like this?” you could only nod weakly, wanting desperately to grind your hips into his hand, but he still held you to firmly. He kissed the side of your head, rewarding your lovely moans and the delicious sound your pussy was making as his fingering continued “Such a naughty thing. But so much fun to play with!”

Then, as quickly as he had started, he stopped, his skeletal digits slicking out of you with a wet **_pop_** , which in itself was enough to make you shout, before you were being picked up and moved around again. It was like you were some posable doll, and honestly, in this state, you did not object at all. He placed you, knelt, on the bed, with your knees apart.

“Keep your hands at your sides.”

He was two steps ahead of you, knowing you would touch yourself in his absence if he didn’t give you orders to do otherwise, and you watched helplessly as he drifted backwards from the bed to remove his boots.

He was dressed quite smartly, today. To fund his culinary schooling, he’d taken on work as a part-time waiter at a restaurant in town, which required he wear a crisp, white shirt and neat, black trousers. But as soon as he was off the clock, he always put his big, red boots, and matching scarf and gloves back on, to go home in. They were his trademark, he would insist, and who was anyone to deny him that? But lord knew he _did_ clean up well, and as two heavy **_thunks_** of his now discarded boots sounded in the quiet room, and this tall, handsome skeleton climbed up onto the bed to kneel on the mattress, in front of you, you felt very, very, lucky that you were the person who would likely get to peel him out of his clothes. Should sir permit it, that is.

He kept his eyes, with hooded-lids, fixed carefully on you as he unravelled his scarf from around his neck, and cast it sideways from the bed. You could feel your heart blooming in your chest, before you suddenly drew in a sharp breath, with tender shock as he reached forward to cup your cheek.

The skeleton bowed his head and kissed you, sweetly, as best he could with a lipless mouth, and you all but melted into him, a sigh heaving out of you as you puckered kisses against his teeth. His hand moving to the back your head, the kiss deepened, and you felt the mattress dip a little as he shuffled closer on his knees, before his free hand reached between your parted knees to resume caressing and teasing your sensitive pocket. You moaned against his mouth, and his interest intensified. He slipped his hand down your neck to your chest, guiding a squeeze over the heap of your breast which then concentrated into a solid pinch of your nipple, between his index finger and thumb. You let out a tiny yowl, and he pulled his face away to smirk at you. His pinched tightened, and he slowly tugged, stretching your breast away from you. He’d always loved how soft a malleable you were. His voice was low, and his breath was hot, puffing close to your face in his own lust “Undress me.”

You gave a curt not and moved your hands to begin to unbutton his shirt, as instructed, but your movements were weak and shaky as he continued to please you with his hands. You hummed and whined and swallowed as you tried your best to concentrate, fumbling with button after button as more of his ribcage was revealed, broad and strong. His form was so detailed and intricate, and your eyes widened, eyelids fluttering, unaware of the combined expression of adoration and amusement on Papyrus’ face as you enjoyed his form and his touch. You looked up at him, weakly.

“C-can I?”

He smiled as he nodded, and you reached your hands to touch his jaw, long and handsome, before your fingers traced down the side of his neck, past his clavicle and his sternum to the base of his ribcage, fingertips hooking gently into the gaps between each rib and making him elicit a vibrated hum. He tilted his head back, enjoying your touch, his own caress of your pussy a little less focused now.

When the cat’s away, the mice will play.

Papyrus’ attention was not on _you_ right now. It was on what he was feeling. You had very willingly given him control of the situation so far, but now that he was very clearly indulging in your hands, sighing and groaning as you caressed his chest, well; it was the perfect opportunity to see what you could get away with.

You puckered your soft lips against his ribs and he hummed.

You caressed his collarbone, the length of his neck and he sighed.

Your touch travelled downwards, and you grazed your fingernails over the surface of his spine, through the void of his empty abdomen, and he didn’t stop you as your ventured further, to his pelvis, still fastened into his trousers. _So_ much attention had been put on you thus far that you hadn’t even noticed how _turned on_ Papyrus was, himself. The familiar warm glow of orange radiated through the dark material as his bulge throbbed and twitched, packed-in and tight. He let out a whine, still facing the ceiling with his eyes closed, as you boldly placed your hand over the bulge, and the pleasure of the contact made him buck his hips into your touch. The buck became a circular grind as you began to rub up and down, through the material, still whining in his throat.

More and more, you tested the water; he let you unbutton his pants, he let you pull them down, along with his boxers, and caress, then rub, then jerk off his hot, orange cock, glowing through the gaps in your fingers, sticky strings of precum being pulled down the shaft with each pump. And each of those pumps sent excitement coursing through you as he let out short groans on the beat of your rhythm, his hips lightly grinding towards your touch. God, he looked so good, his _cock_ looked so good. Your pussy clenched involuntarily between your legs, and you found yourself licking your lips. Then bowing your head.

Papyrus indulged himself in one… two… three slurping licks of his cock from your cute little tongue, before he felt your lips circle and suckle on the end its smooth, squishy head, and his eyes shot open. In a flash, he pushed you onto your back, staring at you intensely as his strength and his weight pressed you into the mattress, beneath him.

“So presumptuous,” he tutted, with a small shake of his head. His hands ghosted from your shoulders down your arms, before he micro-managed your hands to hold your own knees back, exposing yourself to him, once more “Were you going to suck my cock, without my permission? The very nerve; I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge.”

You puffed short, shaking breaths out of your nose in anticipation as he shrugged off his shirt and pulled himself out of his trousers, eye sockets with hooded lids fixated on you and the swell of your chest, the twitch of your core, the flush of your face. The smirking twist of his mouth drove you wild, and you knew him well enough to know that that was why he was smirking to begin with. He’d been a meek little thing when you first started seeing each other. You were his first sexual partner, and although he had been more than eager to please, and to indulge, truly it was you who had been his guiding hand as he had explored you. But this once-explorer was now a conqueror; he was an expert, knew exactly what made you tick, and he’d made your pleasure entirely his own.

He relished in having you coiled around his little finger, and that same, youthful gleam of excitement flashed undeniably in his eyes as he drew himself closer to you.

“I know a much better place to put my cock,” his voice was a low purr, his fingertips glossing the gooey coating of your core, making your writhe with pent up desire as he pumped his other hand slowly, firmly up and down the shaft of his cock, which twitched, and throbbed and _oozed_ deliciously with precum. You couldn’t keep yourself from whining as he teased the fat end against your clit.

“I could stuff it in here,” he pressed against the entrance, but didn’t enter, making your pocket tighten as though trying to pull him “Would you like that, my little pet?”

You nodded frantically, eyes fixated on the orange glow as he continued to pump himself, enjoying you, but excluding you. You tried to keen your hips, to try and suck him in and fill yourself, but he was quick to press a firm hand against your pubic bone. And he kept it there as he pushed and rubbed and teased himself against you, sweat beginning to form on his forehead, eyes glazed, but resolve unwavering.

“ _Then beg for it.”_

Your eyes widened, and your face flushed as he looked at you expectantly. You’d kept mostly quiet through this whole thing. You weren’t even sure if you could find the words. But you _needed_ him, you needed him inside you.

“Papyrus, please,” you tried.

“ _Please?_ Please _what_?”

“Please put it in.”

He was not sold by your proposal. He hunched over you, frowning into your face with his hands pressed either side of your head as he growled “I want you to tell me _exactly_ what you want, Human.”

“I-I want… I-I…” your mind spiralled as he applied even more pressure to your clit.

“ _Beg_ for it.”

“Please stuff your cock inside me!” you practically sobbed, in desperation, keening your hips, pleasuring yourself against the silky shaft of his penis. You didn’t notice that Papyrus was a little taken aback by your outburst, as you continued “I want you to slip your cock into my pussy. I want you to fill me up. I want you to use me! Please, Papyrus, honey, just…”

You trailed off, your face flushing even hotter (if that were even possible) at your own words, as Papyrus continued to stare at you, so intensely, his brow furrowed and his own cheeks shining a brilliant, radiant orange. And then his face disappeared into blackness as you scrunched your eyes shut at the sensation of him slowly, _finally_ , pushing himself inside you. Your cute, human pussy was dwarfed by the size of the monster’s unit, and every encounter was a slow stretch to begin with, as it slipped in and pushed you apart from the inside. It didn’t hurt, but it was tight, and it was intense, and even Papyrus was slowed by the intensity as he gradually pushed himself in as far as you could accept him, but his voice hummed with the decisive wave of pleasure. Your walls contracted then relaxed in pulses as you naturally adjusted to the company, and you were both still as your face continued to frown, in wait.

The skeleton, kind and loving, waited too, until your face softened, and your eyes flickered open to look up at him, full of adoration. A grin split across his face.

“Such a tight, little pussy,” he purred, beginning to pull his length out of you again “… You know, you never finished your sentence, my pet. You were on a good run too! What a shame. But that’s OK, I understand.”

His cock slicked out of you and bobbed at your entrance.

“I know you want me to fuck you.”

You didn’t know if it was the rare sound of Papyrus’s voice cursing, the way he suddenly slammed himself back inside you, or probably a maddening combination of the two, that sent spirals and stars into your eyes and a deep, guttural moan ripping out of you as the monster did just as had said, and started _fucking_ you into the mattress of your bed, pushing your leg back by your ankle as his cock slicked through you with each roll of his hips. It was so much. It was _so, so_ much, and you could feel all sense leaving you as he plunged himself into you over and over, filling you like you’d asked, _using you_ like you’d asked. Any noise that came out of you was loud, garbled, borderline gibberish, and you could see it in his face that he _loved_ it. He loved watching you unravel with the pleasure he was giving you. He gave another excited grin, sweat glistening on his forehead as he poised a thumb to smooth in circles over your clit, making a cry of pleasure basically sob out of your as you bucked your hips towards him.

“Look at the state of you,” his voice was raspy, as he panted with his thrusts “You look so good. You’re such a good girl, taking my cock in your tiny, human pussy.”

“Papyrus,” you whined. His dirty talk drove you crazy; he made you feel so filthy and you _wanted_ to be filthy for him “You’re so mean.”

“Mean, she says,” he chuckled, releasing your ankle and bending down to kiss you, slipping his hands below you. He pulled you up so you were sitting, still pumping into you, your entrance having adjusted to now take the entirety of his cock inside you as his pelvis pressed rhythmically against “I’m not mean. I’m giving you exactly what you want.”

He suddenly lifted you off the mattress, leaning back on his knees to suspend you above his lap, gripping at the fat of your ass as he drove himself up into you. You flung your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck, pressing yourself against his ribcage. He was so strong, and you were totally at his disposal.

“I love you so much, Papyrus,” sex didn’t usually make you this emotional. But something about this evening, about wanting to make him feel better, about submitting yourself to being his plaything made you feel so vulnerable, and all of your love and affection was pouring out of you in moans of his name, weeping confessions of love and sloppy, frantic kisses pressed against his neck, his jaw, his teeth “You’re so good to me. You make me feel so good.”

Papyrus could only groan in acknowledgement, instinct having taken over as he continued to stretch you over his cock. There was so much information to process, the still of room, the quiet of your home emphasising the movement, the heat, the lewd noises of moans and wetness and bone hitting skin, and all of it fuzzed and swirled out of focus for the skeleton as his concentration was stolen purely by fucking you. How you felt around him. It was so amazing, and he wanted more. More pleasure, more submission, more _you._

You let out another cry with the sudden feeling of emptiness when he lifted you off his cock, again, and turned you around, putting you on your hands and knees in front of him. You wiggled your backside at him helplessly.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged. He pushed a hand down on your back, so your face was squashed into the mattress with your ass in the air, bearing all your goods for him to do with as he pleased as he slapped his cock against your pussy. You begged him again “Papyrus, PLEASE. Please put it back in. Please fuck me. _Please fuck me._ ”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and practically screamed as he slicked himself back inside, for more, digging his cock over and over into the depth of your core. You moved your hand to rub your swollen clit as he persisted with you, and you couldn’t help but drool with the ecstasy, the pleasure mounting more and more, radiating from that tiny bundle nerves across your entire body, as moisture dripped down your thighs.

“Here you go,” Papyrus’ voice suddenly growled from behind you, and his hand moved to gently smooth your hair from your face, so he could watch your expression as he pounded into you “Such a good girl, you’re doing so well. Here you go. Does it feel good?”

You frantically nodded. He groaned with a sudden increase in pleasure, tipping his head back and gripping your ass with both hands.

“God, Reader, you feel so good,” he breathed “You make me feel so good, such a perfect little toy. Such a pretty thing, you’ve been such a good girl.”

He lunged forward to fling his arms around your front, clinging desperately to your much smaller form, hands groping over your waist, your hips, the podge of your belly, your breasts. You were so soft, so touchable, so _fuckable._ You felt so good, and you were all his.

“You’re all mine,” he growled into your ear, hitching into you like an animal in heat, and you hummed madly in agreement “My pet. My human. My Reader.”

“Yes! Yes, I promise!”

“ _Mine.”_

“Yes!”

“So good. So perfect,” he gripped you even tighter, the pleasure climbing to a climax “My heart. My good girl, I’m going to cum inside you.”

“Please! Please cum in my pussy! I’m a good girl! I’m a good gi-“ you cut yourself off with your own voice screaming in ecstasy as you felt Papyrus’ cock tense and throb inside of you, before you were utterly filled with his essence, the skeleton roaring in release as he came inside you. His unit pulsed and twitched, pumping more and more sticky cum into you, as he continued to drive himself into you, hilting deep inside you as you moaned, then cried, then _wailed_ as your own orgasm tore through you, and the two of you pressed yourselves as firmly as you could against each other, as though separating was a fate worse than death.

Everything tingled, and throbbed and twitched, and you could feel tremors vibrating down your forearms into you fingers, and from your core down your thighs as the ghost of your climax buzzed through you. The room was silent and still now aside from the haggard, heaving pants of yourself and your skeleton lover who was still recovering from his own orgasm, his cock finally ceasing in depositing ropes of cum inside of you. You huffed air in and out of your lungs and licked the drool from your lips, sense finally beginning to return to your brain. You tightened your pussy and Papyrus’ breath hitched.

“Ah! I’m sensitive!” there he was. There was your Papyrus. He lightly spanked your backside and you giggled, smiling in contentment as he let out a sigh. Your bodies relaxed for a moment, his cock still inside you as the stillness settled over you both. You could feel him getting a little softer “I’m going to move now.”

It required that warning; separating was always an intense surprise for two sets of sensitive genitals, and you let out a short squeak as he slicked his cock out of you in one smooth motion, and you could feel his cum begin to dribble out of you and drip from your entrance. Papyrus lowered his head to inspect it, curiously, as though he hadn’t seen it a hundred times before. You hummed as his spread your lips apart with his thumbs.

“I came so much,” his remark was a clear combination of surprise and pride at his handiwork “There’s so much goo!”

“Well, that’s the place for it,” you replied tiredly, and lowered yourself flat against the mattress, fulling relaxing. You rolled onto your back and patted the space beside you. The skeleton snatched a pillow and slipped it below your head, quickly, before joining you at your side and pulling you into a snuggle. You shared a few sweet kisses, before curling your head below his chin with a happy sigh. You felt his flaccid penis, which had been pressed against your thigh, fade away, the lustful magic dispersing. He combed his fingers through your hair.

“That was a lot of fun,” he said sweetly, quietly. He gave you a squeeze “I hope I wasn’t _too_ mean.”

“It was just the right level of meanness, Pap,” you giggled, kissing his chin “Honest. I would of told you if it wasn’t cool.”

“I’m glad, because I _thoroughly_ enjoyed it,” you raised you eyes to his grinning face. He looked so very pleased with himself “And it seems like you enjoyed it, too.”

“Very much.”

He hummed happily, nuzzling his face against the top of your head.

“You’re a very kind person,” he said. Your heart swelled in your chest, but you didn’t say anything, instead waiting to hear if he continued “Thank you for cheering me up. I feel much better.”

He cupped at your cheek with his hand and gently turned your face to look at him. His eyes were soft and full of love “… You make me feel very lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” you replied, grinning “My boyfriend is twice my size and _really_ good at sex and I’m the one who gets to be thrown around by him in the bedroom.”

He quirked a brow bone “Oh, you make it sound not-so friendly.”

You giggled again, squeezing your grasp on him “I _love_ it.”

He blushed at your praise, as you continued “You’re so big and strong. I’m heavy, but you can move me around like it’s nothing. You make me feel safe and warm and protected. I like giving myself to you because… I know you’ll take care of me.”

Papyrus stared at you, in your earnest, before pulling you in for a deep kiss, tangling his fingers in your hair with one hand, as the other continued to rest on your cheek. You sighed into him, love blossoming across your chest as you tightened your own grip on him, before the kiss popped and he pulled away to look you very carefully in the eyes.

“I will _always_ take care of you,” he said, firmly “I love you so much. My darling Reader.”

And oh, how you loved him, in return.

You and Papyrus laid together in the pink, hazy afterglow of your love making, whispering and kissing and cuddling in a happy bubble, until your stomach chimed in with a long, gurgling growl. It was time to start thinking about making dinner.

Together, you very quickly washed up and got dressed, chatting and laughing together all the while as you made your way down the stairs. Papyrus visibly itched at seeing the long-forgotten trail of dirty socks, and grinned sheepishly, before seeking out the abandoned laundry basket and tidying them up. Then once that was done, you both made your way into the kitchen and set about making dinner. You boiled some water, and began to ease spaghetti into the pot, on the stove, as the skeleton stood on the other side of the kitchen and began to prepare his perfected sauce.

Papyrus lifted his head from what he was doing as the comfortable silence of the room was gently broken by the sound of you humming something. The tune was one that you had absorbed from him over the time that you had been together. You had often caught him whistling or humming or doo-wopping it too himself, happily, and when you questioned him about what it was, he honestly wasn’t sure. It had just come to him, one day, he had explained. It must have been his theme song, and you helped him name it ‘Bonetrousle’. And now, his lovely, little Reader was humming that song idly to herself.

Papyrus watched you fondly over his shoulder, for a few moments.

He had every intention of making you his wife, someday.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm also an artist! Come follow me on instagram @_circleheadd_


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